Chapter Text
When he was a student at the hunter's academy, Jonathan never intended on actually hunting anything.
He'd come to the school out of pressure and convenience. He was a scholar and held little love for the bloodshed most other students delighted in; but the libraries were the best in the country, and with his father's influence, he'd been allowed passage into the city of Windknight's Lot without any hassle at all. It was a much luckier arrangement than the average student's experience; pupils of the academy came from far and wide, but only the best or wealthiest of reputation were allowed in. Every year a sea of hopeful hunters would pool outside the city's enormous walls, shoving and shouting and trying to make themselves seem worthy of noticing. Only a few dozen would be allowed in, and very rarely were they not expected in advance.
It was little wonder why the city was so fortified, and so wary of outsiders; beasts of all natures had been plaguing the lands for years, and their numbers were only growing. It wasn't only students that gathered outside the gates, but refugees, the poor and rich alike who had fled their demon-ridden towns and thought to seek asylum behind the heavy walls. But with so many monsters, and the lines between human and beast seeming to blur more and more with every generation, it would be impossible to grant all of them entrance without also inviting in the scourge that was the inhuman. Some creatures were easier to identify as supernatural - the more feral of the lot, the ones best documented simply because of their animal-like nature and sheer numbers - but some were less obvious. Vampires, banshee, werewolves, sirens... There was rarely ever telling one from a human until it was too late.
Although, Jonathan would argue, most monster folk were actually quite accommodating, if given the chance to be. The relentless prosecution of supernatural entities was driving the hostility, not any "base urges" or whatever other fear-mongering drivel the academy liked to preach. He understood the importance of hunters, and resented them only on an impersonal level - villages, families, lives were being torn apart by this war, and the human settlements that still held out were rapidly being overrun by slaughter and siege. But nevertheless, Jonathan still permitted himself to believe in a better future. A future where beast and man could live in harmony, where lines were drawn between giant rats and harmless selkies. Even monsters fought among themselves, particularly against the risen dead - if man would only ally with their more closely related brethren, the war would have much fewer casualties and much grander victories.
But, as he'd come to find in the years soon following his enrollment, those kinds of ideals were laughable at best and politically dangerous at worst. The "us versus them" mentality had become so deeply ingrained into the minds of those at the academy, and the academy stood as a beacon of hope and redemption for those who'd lost everything to the war. To change that kind of fanaticism would take a revolution; and quite possibly more than one, at that.
And at the time, Jonathan was doing all he could to simply pass his midterm exams.
The tests came in two portions, research and essay writing, and independent kills. Score high enough on one and the marks on the other would all but cease to matter. Although even then, the scores were highly stacked against the academic pursuits. Hunts for bigger and better beasts, or simply enormous amounts of smaller pests, were prized as far greater than any thesis Jonathan could ever come up with. It was the principal of the matter he disagreed with more than anything - the unfairness of the system drove him to try and muscle through it, despite the added stress. But even still, it was a challenge not succumb to the allure of a few extra points simply by ridding a couple zombified rats from some old woman's basement... It wouldn't do a lot for him, but bars were being raised year after year, and this latest goal seemed nearly impossible considering the marks he was expecting to get.
While he was contemplating this, a pair of heavy boots tramped up to him. Their noise ought to have seemed deafening in the library's quiet, but perhaps Jonathan was simply too engrossed in his moral dilemma to notice. He jumped when the boy the boots belonged to slammed his hands down on the table.
"Uh, um -" Jonathan stammered, too shocked to speak for a moment. "C-can I help you?"
The boy had a tangle of wispy blond hair which stuck this way and that, looking as if he'd been running his hands through it. His eyes were golden and wild, and Jonathan felt a jolt run through him as he mistook them, just for a moment, as somehow inhuman. But the boy was simply no more than desperate - desperate and furious, and with no other options left, it seemed.
"You are Jonathan Joestar, yes?" He asked, in a voice deeper than Jonathan would've expected. He nodded, dumbly, and the boy scoffed. "I've seen your marks on the physical exams. As much as I hate to say this, you're probably my only hope anymore."
"Who... Are you?" Jonathan asked, no more reassured by the cryptic answer. The results of any exam were meant to be private, how did he...?
The boy thrust out a hand. "Dio. Dio Brando. I need you to be my partner."
It took a moment for Jonathan to recognize the gesture as a handshake. He gripped the slender hand for only a moment before Dio pulled away, seemingly disgusted with having to impart even that much civility. Dio Brando was not a name thrown around lightly among their peers - he excelled at every task demanded of him, consistently ranked highest in organized hunts, and boasted a kill record that only continued to grow in grandeur with each entry. The only area he seemed fallible in was the academic side, and even then, it was only Jonathan standing in his way from getting perfect marks across the board. They were both well aware of that fact, and Jonathan had stalwartly refused to back down simply for the sake of soothing some stranger's ego.
So while this made a perfect kind of sense in theory, teaming up so that one may take over where the other was weak, simply knowing who Dio was... It seemed too good to be true. He was vindictive, jealous - or so others had said - he would do anything to be on top. So why was it that he was standing there now, asking Jonathan for help rather than flinging insults and threats? Perhaps he was only misunderstood.
Jonathan gave him a weak smile, still somewhat cautious of his intentions. He asked, "um, partner in what sense, exactly?"
Dio rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "My idiotic 'friends' backed out at the last minute. I've found a beast that would secure our grades for the rest of the year, so long as we can bring it down. Normally I wouldn't even bother recruiting other hunters for this, but..."
Dio spoke like he was already a graduate. The fact he called his fellow students 'recruits' gave Jonathan the impression that maybe there was something to those rumours, after all. He certainly thought quite highly of himself. "What kind of beast is this, exactly?" Jonathan asked, more out of habit and morbid curiosity than anything. He wasn't about to leap at the offer just yet.
A crooked smile broke out on Dio's face. It was no less frightening than the glare he typically wore. "A hell beast," he said.
Hell beasts were primitive dragons, of a sort. Gargoyle-like in appearance and with exoskeletons of stone everywhere but their underbellies, they were rare and extremely destructive when provoked; that Dio had found a live one was nearly unbelievable. Jonathan's jaw dropped before he asked, "w-where?! I thought the council of elders wiped them out of the country..."
Dio shrugged, cocky and confidant. "If you team up with me to take it down, I'll show you. I'll even let you take a horn or two for research. You could write your entire final's thesis on that kind of specimen, I'd imagine."
He wasn't wrong, but Jonathan still felt conflicted. He didn't want his success to come at such a price - but a glance at the table, at the dozen or so books he had strewn about, and the piles of aborted essays he'd crumpled up and shoved aside... He wasn't going to make the bare minimum of requirements for this exam, much less rise to the top of his grade as usual.
Dio, seeing him hesitate, reluctantly extended his hand again, though this time as more of an inviting gesture. "Well?" He asked.
Jonathan slowly placed his hand in Dio's. "Just this once," he said.
"Just this once."
"This way!" Dio shouted from around the bend of yet another labyrinthine passageway. Jonathan should've been able to hear him with no problems - his voice even echoed in the wide stone caverns - but it barely seemed like a whisper to his ears. Dio was, among other things, a master of simple trickery; a few runes and rituals had granted him a kind of silencing effect, and Jonathan was beginning to grow tired of it.
"Don't run off like that!" He whispered as soon as he caught up to the blond, his own voice and footsteps sounding like canon fire in the hollow halls. Dio only shot him an odd look.
"You can hear me just fine. I told you, I'd spell you too, if you wanted it."
"I'll pass, thanks," Jonathan said, and hoped his swift refusal would end the conversation soon.
Dio simply shrugged and said, "suit yourself," shining his lantern onto the wall where he'd scratched an arrow on his last visit. They took the leftmost pass and continued on in silence.
The caverns under Windknight's Lot weren't a secret to the populous, but they were seldom explored. Early crusades were so effective at wiping out the monster population that further hunts were said to be no longer necessary. The tunnels were sealed off with the city and were regularly flooded in the rainy months; and while they still might've been perfect for any hardier monsters in hiding, the lack of large beasts as confirmed by yearly reports was taken as a testament to the city's strict preventative measures. The people of Windknight's touted their reputation highly; to know that even the ground under their feet was safe was no small matter.
That Dio had found a hell beast here was all the more shocking, then. If he were telling the truth, it would be a devastating blow against the council of elders and their claims of a monster-free city. Jonathan had always suspected the council of lying, but could never prove it beyond a hunch; evidence of a hell beast in the caverns could blow open the doors to a slew of other secrets the council would rather just sweep under the rug. Thoughts of a potential scandal weighed on his mind with every passing second, his hands and feet tingling with nervousness and anticipation - but when Dio finally snuffed out the flame and held an arm out to stop him, suddenly that excitement turned to despair.
Shackled against the far wall of the spacious room was a malnourished, disfigured creature. It was a hell beast only in name, the last fragment of might and dignity the poor monster could hold claim to. It hung limply from its chains and only the feeble, quivering breaths it took indicated that it was even still alive.
Jonathan felt sick. He slammed both hands over his mouth, fearful of what would come out, be it bile or profanity. Dio's hand also piled atop his, worried that Jonathan might give away their position. When the nausea and shock passed, he whispered fiercely, "what is this?"
"A hell beast, as promised."
Jonathan shook his head, backing away from the miserable sight. "No, no, Dio, what is this? That creature... How long has it been there?"
Dio met his eyes like a challenge, determined and resolute. "I don't know, and it isn't our concern. As far as I see it, this is the council's oversight and our lucky day. Finders keepers, and all that." Jonathan still looked scorned, so Dio chose to elaborate; "I was wondering the caverns when I came across it, I swear. I haven't the slightest idea why it's here, but obviously it's being kept alive for something. Even a first year hunter would be able to take that thing down!" He swung an arm towards the ailing monster, growing irritated.
"Then why did you need me?" Jonathan asked.
Dio rolled his eyes. "Because I needed a witness. No one would believe me if I said I brought a hell beast down on my own, even with a horn for proof. I needed someone who looks capable enough to take one on, and trustworthy enough to be taken seriously." He crossed his arms, looking stubborn. "Any more questions?"
"This is..." Jonathan gazed at the poor monster with pitying eyes. "This is wrong, Dio. We have to -"
"If you tell anyone what's actually down here, I'll put a bolt through your eyes right now." He rested a hand on the tiller of his crossbow. Dio had a preference for knives and daggers, but wasn't so hardheaded that he shunned other weapons entirely. A bolt through the beast's heart would more than suffice here - no need to complicate matters. "Listen, I think it's obvious who's behind this, but I don't think they'd take kindly to it being exposed. We kill the thing, make up some heroic story so that the council will be forced to congratulate our efforts rather than damn them, and we walk away with our grades in the bag for the rest of our academic lives. Besides," he added, attempting to appeal to Jonathan's sympathetic side; "you wouldn't leave this thing here to suffer, would you?"
Guilt shot through Jonathan like a lightning strike. It was a cruel card to play, but true all the same; and with a wince and a sigh, Jonathan said, "fine. Let's go and just... Get this over with."
"You can wait out here, you know. Turn your back, block your ears..."
Jonathan shot him a glare, unsheathing the broadsword at his hip. "I said let's go, didn't I? If all I can do for the thing is grant it mercy, then..."
"Save your sermon," Dio replied, loading a bolt into his bow. "This'll be quick."
And it was, depressingly so. The moment Jonathan stepped into the room and raised his sword, the beast's head lifted just enough for Dio to puncture its heart, swiftly and without fanfare. It made a shuddering, gurgling kind of noise as it jerked and twisted against its chains; then fell limp, as still and silent as death. After a few moments had passed, Dio emerged from the doorway and Jonathan strode up to the creature, anger eclipsing any caution he might've otherwise felt. He climbed its body and chains until he reached its head, hacked off a pair of flaky, grey horns and tossed one to Dio - who, thankfully, caught it. Considering their condition, Jonathan wouldn't have been surprised if they crumbled to dust simply at his touch alone. He leapt down and shouldered his way past the blond, their business and tentative partnership now through.
In the days that followed, Jonathan was led around like a dog on a leash, called in to testify for Dio's wild claims. He was amazed how the boy kept his story straight, even with it being so complicated; Jonathan could barely keep up at the best of times and by the end of the first week, had simply ceased trying to follow along. He stood behind Dio and nodded whenever he was asked a question, that was all. And just as Dio predicted, the council of elders had even sent a representative to congratulate them on their heroic duties, in front of nearly the entire city's population - and when Jonathan finally stumbled back to his room that night, he found a satchel of gold lying on his bed. Extra incentive, Dio had told him the next morning. The council had approved of their story, if not their actions, and was happy to invest in them keeping the tale alive. After he said that, Jonathan scowled and shoved the gold into Dio hands. It was enough to have participated in this hoax - he wouldn't dirty his conscious any further by accepting their bribe money.
True to his promise, it was the first and last time Dio had asked for his cooperation; they went on their separate ways when the story could stand on its own, and became local legends among their peers. Dio was all too happy to leap into the limelight, whereas Jonathan hid himself away, buried in his own research now that his grades were a non-factor. The council had kept that hell beast alive for some reason - but what? And were they keeping other monsters alive, as well? Shackled and tormented for who knew how long... There must be a reason, a purpose to this cruelty, right?
If there was, he never found out. In his studies, he had gotten sidetracked with his original intentions; to fully document the lives, anatomy and behaviours of monsters from a unbiased point of view. People would always fear and hate what they could not understand - how could peace ever be achieved between them if all people knew was ignorance and prejudice? He couldn't fathom someone chaining up a beast like that if they only knew of its true nature, of what passive and even benevolent creatures they were, if left well enough alone. He had to have faith in that; he couldn't blow open a conspiracy on his own, but he might be able to change the hearts of the public, if given enough time.
It wasn't until several months after their graduation that he saw Dio again. And not only saw - but had sought out to find.
Tensions were rising both outside the city and within; risen dead were starting to be spotted in the nearby port cities, which were meant to be under the protection of Windknight's Lot. Hunters had started to drop like mayflies whereas the threat of beasts only continued to rise, and fewer applicants were making the cut every year. The council of elders had gone silent and without guidance, the people were rapidly beginning to loose faith. Jonathan had a small library to his name and a fairly quiet, unassuming life made for himself, were he could research and write in peace - but he still had his hunter's badge, and the obligation to protect that came with it. Besides, this was as much a personal matter as it was a sworn duty; his father's trade post operated out of one of those cities. Anything that threatened his family or their livelihood was something he held no guilt over disposing of.
But while Jonathan was a formidable force on his own, he knew he functioned better with a partner. And with so few hunters left, he turned to the only one he could recall by name; Dio Brando. Jonathan found him in a surprisingly modest room above a pub - not quite the lavish dwellings he was expecting a hunter with a reputation like Dio's to have, but as he informed Jonathan upon letting him inside, he was away on expeditions more often than not. It was cheap and the bar added his tab to his rent - simple and effective, even if it did smell of sour ale, stale hay and sick.
"I want to handle this quickly," Jonathan told him across the tiny dining table, one of the few pieces of furniture Dio did have in the cramped space. "No fuss, no mess, just... In and out. I know you're skilled enough for that."
Dio scoffed, tossing his golden hair. "Of course. But why would I bother? A few zombies are paltry foes. You do realize I've had my eyes on a dragon's nest for the past six months? If I miss their nesting window for this..."
Jonathan's hands flinched involuntarily, thinking of the slaughter of such noble creatures. He thinned his lips, but pressed on. "Don't think I missed the dirty look the bartender shot you. I know you have debts, I did my research, and you can't always rely on big game alone to support you."
Dio gave him a dirty look. The fact that he was in a bit of a financial slump ought to have been no one's business but his own. "So what are you proposing, exactly?"
Jonathan laid his hand, open palmed and facing up, across the table. "Be my partner. If only for this hunt, if you want. Innocent people are loosing their lives and no one is coming to defend them - I can't stand back and watch that happen, and you need the coin."
Dio regards the offer with a raised brow, but slides his pale hand into Jonathan's hold all the same. Call it curiosity, boredom, what have you - Dio was intrigued by the prospect of a real hunt with a man so impressively built as Jonathan, and so said, "alright. But just this once, yes?"
"Just this once," Jonathan promised, with a small smile.